


As It Seems

by SamanthaFeng



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-15
Updated: 2014-03-24
Packaged: 2018-01-15 19:32:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,166
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1316650
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SamanthaFeng/pseuds/SamanthaFeng
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Phil realizes nothing is as it seems when it comes to Melinda.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The idea of Phil as the commanding officer in Bahrain is borrowed from "Lies" by Sarahastro.
> 
> I hope the writers will never go to this direction in the show, but the conversation in this fic has stuck in my head for days so I have to get it out. I may add another chapter later, we'll see.

The truth, plain and whole, is finally laying in front of him.

Phil Coulson has spent hours reading the file that contains everything about his brain surgery (not the old one that has less than ten percent of the story comparing to this), going over the detailed lists of those altered memories again and again, especially the section named Melinda May.

He tries to picture a past life without the existence of Melinda, his real life. Graduated from S.H.I.E.L.D. Academy without a classmate called Melinda. Paired up with Agent Althea Rice, who died in their fourth mission together. Hasn't had a regular partner ever since.

A life without attending graduation ceremony with Melinda by his side, without after op drinking with Melinda, without her having his back in a mission, or kicking his ass in a sparring. The file in front of him tells him that it was a life he has really lived, and yet it seems so ridiculous.

Phil looks up to the woman who has been standing by the door and watching him for hours. He knows her so well. He knows how she likes her coffee, he knows where she learned Tai Chi, he knows every meaning behind her smile, her glare, or her silence; they can hold a conversation without saying a word. He remembers her laugh, the sound he used to love so much before she became the woman she is now; remebers the feeling of her blood gushing out and covering his hand, her body limp in his arm; he even remembers the color of the dress she wore the first time he asked her to dinner (a proper one, not some sandwiches they grabbed between briefings) and she said yes.

Even now, when he knows everything is nothing but false memories, when he has every reason to be angry, her presence still calms him, and that angers him even more.

Frustrated, he pushes the file away. "Make this stop. Whatever you guys did to me, revise it."

Melinda steps closer and watches him with pure intensity. She lays a hand on his arm, the same gentle way as she did many more times in his memories. Instinctly, he leans to her touch, but soon catches himself and shrugs her off with a little more force than necessary.

Despite of his rational mind, he still feels the pull that exits whenever she is close. It's fake, he tells himself. He closes his eyes but it's still there. The faint thunderstorm scent of her, the magnetism of her skin. The feelings are all fake, his mind screams, _fake fake fake_.

He takes a step back, trying to find a way out of this desperation. "I know this, _us_ , is nothing but fictional. But when I look at you, I still feel you're my best friend. And I feel...I feel more...What you did is unhumanly, Agent May."

She doesn't say anything. A flicker of something crosses her eyes but he is too drained to decipher it.

"Why didn't Fury ask someone who really is my friend?"

"You don't have many friends." She gives him an answer this time, stating the fact. "The few you do have all think you're dead."

Phil feels the urge of laughing. "So they asked you, someone I never met to act as my friend, and created a whole story to make me think..."

"Actually, we had met once before. In Bahrain."

Her vioce remains cold, but that partucular word stops him from laughing.

"Isn't Bahrain part of the fake story too?"

"Partially. You were the commanding officer of that operation."

He lowers his voice, although he isn't sure which makes him do so, the reveal or the shadow clouds her eyes like every other time the city is mentioned. "So what you did in Bahrain...What I think you did in Bahrain, is real. It's just I didn't sit beside your bed in the medical bay for days, or wait out of your apartment for weeks."

"No. But you told me to let the girl go."

Surprised, he wonder if his words made any difference in reality than in his implanted memories. "What did you say?"

A ghostly smile appears on her lips. "I nearly broke your arm."

Finding it's surprising easy to imagine, Phil feels the corner of his month curling up too. "So who was the one actually sitting beside your bed?"

Melinda pauses for a second. "No one."


	2. Chapter 2

 

It's over.

They have undone what they did to him, giving back his own life. 

He has checked (double and triple checked) the file, and was relieved when those implanted memories listed there are now feel like nothing but stories to him. 

He is finally himself again. 

Only that--

 

"You’re all clear, Agent Coulson. The traces we left in your brain are all gone."

"Are you sure? Is that possible you missed something?"

"I don't think so. Are you feeling anything wrong?" Dr Streiten asks with concern, "if you tell us what the problem is, I may be able to run some specific tests. 

Phil shakes his head. "No, nothing."

 

He still has his team. Skye, Ward, Fitz-Simmons, and Agent Anne Sharp, who replaced Melinda as the pilot.

She is warm, energetic, often seen laughing in the lounge with the kids. She is not so good in combat as May (hardly any people is anyway), so he has to go to field more, though he doesn't mind.

Everything seems to be right. Except-- 

Those early mornings he is the only one awake. The work out space is empty, mat lying silently in the corner.

The many times he finds himself at the door of cockpit out of habit, but hesitates to go in. The cockpit, filled by Agent Sharp's friendly chat yet absent of its former owner's strangely soothing silence, somehow feels alien to him.

Or like now, Agent Sharp enters his office and asks for a talk.

"Agent Coulson," she begins without taking a seat, “we have been working together for almost two months now, and you're all very friendly to me, I really appreciate that."

"But sometimes I...I don't want any misunderstanding between us Agent Coulson, but..." She hesitates, weighing her words, and blurt out in a rush, "But sometimes I feel you don't see me as one of your own."

That is unexpected. Phil quickly defends himself, "I can assure you, Agent Sharp, I never-" 

Anne shakes her head. "I can see the five of you are like a family, and I'm like an outsider. I don't know what things like when Agent May was here, but-"

Her words are cut short by a sudden jolt of the plane. The urgent sound of alarm soon follows.

Anne's face turns serious. "It's the plane. I gotta go."

Phil looks out as Anne rushes to the cockpit. The daylight is disappearing, outside of the window, he can see clouds quickly emerging and gathering.

He follows Anne and finds Simmons and Skye at the door of the cockpit too.

"Sir, a storm is forming around us." Simmons says in a hurry, "It shows up in the monitor two minutes ago, out of nowhere, now it's turning to a superstorm."

Phil nods solemnly. They have all known the reason.

Blizzard.

"Agent Coulson." Anne's voice reaches them, "I need all of you to stay in your seat. The storm is too strong, the Bus is losing control."

As if trying to prove her words, the plane begins to bump violently.

"Simmons, Skye, buckle yourself up." Phil barks orders to them, and then to the comm, "Ward and Fitz, stay in your seat and hold tight. Repeat, stay in your seat!"

Without turning his head, he shouts to pilot, “Pull the plane higher, May! We need to get out of the storm now!" The silence hits him; belatedly, he corrects himself, "Agent Sherp."

"I'm trying!" Anne replies among a string of curses, "I can't get the navigation system to work, and the visibility is too low, even if I can control the plane, we're loss of directions."

"Oh, we're dead." Simmons groans, eyes closed.

Skye reaches for her hand and grips tight, her face equally pale. "We really could use The Cavalry this time."

"Wait, what's that?"

Phil follows Anne's gaze, a small plane tears through the heavy clouds and appears in their views. In the storm, that small plane is shaking like a lone leaf, but it doesn't float away, instead, it stays in their visual range, barely a few miles ahead of them, like the Pole Star.

Phil feels something well up in his chest and he is able to breathe again. His voice breaks a little when he orders the astounded Anne. "Follow it, Agent Sharp."

Thirty minutes later, they land unscratched. The storm is calming, raindrops beating on the window glass starting to slow down.

Phil exits the plane, watching a familiar figure showing at the door of the other plane.

The Cavalry is here.

 

Phil waits for her outside of her apartment.

The rain has stopped not so long ago, the air still a bit misty. Streetlamps cast a long shadow on the damp ground.

This is a bit ironic, Phil thinks, he standing here in the exact spot as he used to think he did, after Bahrain. He could see her window from here, the one on the second floor (he knows because those memories didn't leave him, it just reduced to some distant scenes like he remembered from a film), and he tries to imagine what street was like that day, years ago, when she hid herself behind the curtain and there was no one waiting outside.

They didn't speak earlier today, after they safely landed. The four kids waited for him to make the first move, but he didn't. For ten long minutes, he watched her engaging a conversation with Agent Sharp from afar, and then she was gone.

The sound of approaching footsteps breaks into Phil's reverie. He looks up, the world around him slows down when their eyes lock. 

They didn't exactly part in a friendly term. He accused her of manipulating his mind, and when she accompanied him to the meeting with Fury, the journey was mostly spent in dead silence. When he made back to the Bus, her things had already been cleared out. Three days after his surgery, Agent Sharp was assigned to his team. It has been two months since he was within such a short distance of her.

"Agent May." He greets her, acting as natural as he can. 

Melinda simply raises her eyebrow. 

"I'm here to..." He tries, "I just want to thank you, for saving our lives today." 

"It's Director Fury's order." She says curtly.

Phil nods, already aware of that. For a moment, he lowers his head and thinks about what he is going to say. This is not like last time; he isn't even entirely sure why he is doing this, but still. "I filed a request today, to have you assign to my team again."

He scans her face, trying to look for a telling of what inside of her head at the moment, and when there isn't any, he looks away, fixing his gaze on a spot on her right shoulder. 

Eventually, he hears her saying. "I saw Agent Sharp's file, she is a competent pilot."

"She is."

"I have given her a few advices on how to deal with situation like Blizzard earlier, she'll be fine next time, if you're worrying."

"Melinda," Phil says, suddenly sounding very tired. "This is not about her.”

He can see she is contemplating something, which is a good sign. If she wants to reject him, he should be several blocks away by now.

"I never thought you would want to work with me again, after-" She gestures mildly, trailing off.

"Neither did I." He admits, half to her, half to himself. "But it may not be easy to forget what you did to me, it's not easy to forget you either." 

There is a long silence between them, but he decides to waits her out.

"Is this an order?" She asks.

Phil shakes his head. "No, just a offer." Looking steadily at her, he adds, "But you know, despite of everything, we did make a good team."

"Alright." She says, at last.

"Is this a yes?" He feels his lips curve into a smile.

She rolls her eyes.

When Melinda walks side by side with him, he still feels it. Something he thought was the residue of the surgery. But then, maybe not. 

They're still in an awkward place, Phil thinks, not enemies, yet not exactly friends. Where should they go from here? 

"To the Bus, of course." He hears her voice, then realizing he actually think the last part out loud.

"No, I meant -” Embarrassed, he tries to clarify.

Only she stops him, and smiles. "One step at a time, Phil."


End file.
